Cece Rios and the Desert of Souls by Kaela Rivera (online e book reading .txt) 📕

hand still extended. Kit wrapped himself around me, but through his hair, I saw Papá’s flared nostrils and heavy, raging chest. I trembled. For all of his mistakes, he’d never hit me before.

“Miguel!” Mamá cried.

“She is a bruja!” Papá’s teeth gritted. “I will not allow her to humiliate our familia—”

Wind suddenly rushed over Kit and me. Kit pulled back and helped me sit. My face stung, and I was sure it would be as purple as dusk by tomorrow. When I finally straightened upright, Little Lion stood between me and Papá. And Coyote had Papá by the wrist.

His growl rumbled through the air. “If you ever hurt her again I won’t hesitate to break—your—arm.” He twisted my father’s arm until his face filled with pain.

“Coyote!” I yelled. “Don’t. Please.”

Coyote stood over him, taller and younger, stronger and more protective of me than my papá had ever been. Mamá leaped forward between Coyote and my father. Her body was wide and stout, and she shoved both of them back, away from each other.

She turned a glare on Coyote. “Do not touch my familia, criatura.” She rounded on Papá as he caught his footing. “And you—I have forgiven your many sins against me, but I will not forgive your hand against my daughter’s face.”

I froze as she spun to face me. “And you, you are confused, Cece. Tzitzimitl’s curse has made your mind weak and trusting.” Her breath shook. “Please. I cannot lose you too.” Her eyes melted into warm brown pools.

I stood with Kit and Lion’s help, my face and heart aching, watching my mamá shatter slowly in front of me. I knew she didn’t want to lose me. I knew I probably seemed selfish. But still, I shook my head.

“I’ve got to go,” I whispered. “Adiós. And if I never see you again—I love you.” I smiled at Mamá. Then I turned a hard frown on Papá. He nursed the wrist Coyote had twisted, his face torn between a glare and a look of panic. “I even love you, Papá.” A knot formed in my throat. “And I forgive you. That doesn’t mean what you’ve done is okay. It doesn’t mean anything you’ve done is okay.” I touched my cheek. “But it does mean that I hope you’ll change, and even if you don’t—I’m going to be okay. I can be okay. The rest is up to you, Papá.”

Despite my brave speech, I wasn’t really sure I was ready to forgive him yet. My eye was already starting to close up. But if anything did happen to me while rescuing Juana, I didn’t want to die hating him. I didn’t want to be captive to him like that.

I wanted to be free to love him. He didn’t have to be right, or have power over my life, for me to do that. So I’d work on forgiving him—just far from where he could hurt me.

I turned away from my parents. Coyote, Lion, and Kit looked at me, their soul stones pulsing with sadness. Were they—sympathizing with me? I smiled a little to give us all courage. Coyote leaned down so I could wrap my arms around his shoulders.

“Let’s go, Coyote,” I whispered.

The three of us left my home in a rush. A quiet, lonely place in my heart wondered if it would be for the last time.

The wind’s chill soothed my swelling face. The sun was a heavy orange orb now, turning hot pink as it touched the edge of the horizon. Houses streaked into small, distant caricatures as Coyote carried me away, dancing across the roofs, whisking me into the afternoon.

Kit ran up on our right side. “I’m sorry, Cece,” he said, just loud enough so I could hear him. “I heard your mamá coming and tried to run, but I wasn’t as fast as Little Lion.”

Lion swooped up on our left. “Don’t be too mad at him.” He stared off into the cerros, where we were headed. “I should’ve grabbed him when I left.” He pouted. “Instead I had to wait outside the kitchen window to make sure he was okay, since I was pretty sure you didn’t want me to beat up your mamá.”

“Yeah, good call. I definitely didn’t want that,” I said with a small smile. The wind quickly brushed it away. “And I’m not angry. This . . . had to happen eventually.”

Coyote’s grip tightened on my legs. I rested my head against his shoulder. It was an effortless ride in his arms. The safest I’d felt in a long time.

25

The Sign of the Binding

By the time we reached the cerros, the day had gone, and clouds had blocked out most of the night sky. They hung low overhead as we approached the spot Brujo Rodrigo’s invitation described. I pulled the card out of my pocket as Coyote and I closed in on a tall pile of boulders at the entrance to the canyon. The volcano, Iztacpopo, cast a sharp shadow over us.

Coyote, Lion, Kit, and I stopped at the rock outcropping. We were the only ones there.

I looked at my invitation again. “Maybe . . . we got the wrong spot?”

“No.” Coyote looked up to the other side of the gorge. “We didn’t.”

The canyon expanded like a gaping mouth before us. The rugged path between the hulking slabs of rock inclined up sharply to the base of Iztacpopo—and at the top, two shadowy figures watched us.

Brujo Rodrigo and El Silbón.

They both stared down the path at me. I tried to swallow my fear, but my mouth was so dry, I nearly choked on it instead.

“Tonight’s the final round of the Bruja Fights!” El Silbón crowed across the distance. His voice had the same grainy, electrical quality, even out here in the open. “And finally, our last contestant has arrived. Will she be able to prove to the Dark Saints that she is worthy to enter the kingdom of El Cucuy?” He traced the brim of his hat. The bones in his bag rattled against each other and echoed